Breathe (Inspired by the LTAB poetry competition)

In order to write a poem

Sufficient enough for personal satisfaction,

Adam said... "Poet, breathe, now."

Breathe because

"Your piece might depend on piece",

For those who study pieces that change their

Perspective on poetry,

Like me, see,

I grew up with literary phrases spitting out my mouth

Like balls of fire,

To explode on diary pages

But my words weren't louder than anyone, or anything,

They were silent, but deadly.

And if growing up I couldn't inhale and exhale,

Well, I never learned to breathe,

And if I never learned to breathe I could never

Speak my pieces that depended on my peace,

Internally

My lungs were left like clenched closed fists because

I spent years putting words onto paper

And never putting words into my mouth,

Until the first time I stepped on a slam stage,

And carved my heart out

To an audience who were strictly strangers.

But this crowd deemed different than the people of my peers,

But were people who poured poetry into their bloodstream,

Which meant we all shared the same bloodtype, see

They understood that

Our words played stars that orbited around solar systems of stanzas,

Faster than the speed of light,

To inflict your heart, and send shivers down your spine

That if you ever need oxygen to fuel your fire,

Never breathe in, but breathe out

That on this stage

If you never have the nerve to say who you are,

Then you are who you say,

That words cling to insecurities to create masterpieces

And monogamous marriages between you and your mic,

To speak now, or forever hold your piece

That these words won't take no for an answer,

Growing tumors tremendously in your cheeks

To be spit out, like vocabulary cancer

That we are each

Intelectually insane scholars painting out idiosyncrasies

Identifying our imperfections

To reach out and tell at least one poet:

"You aren't alone in what you feel."

Words act like patrons giving you something to lean on

When you're all by yourself on that stage...

When our analytical art is only seen through

Narrow set sights,

Words give us courage to crack closed minded cold stares back

That have the nerve to say,

"Man, poetry is wack",

Well those who matter don't mind too much

Kids who leave their souls on a stage

To be stabbed with a swift decimal number or two,

So when it seems judges won't "listen to the poem",

Your audience always listens to you.

Snapping up support for your respitory system

So that you can take one last breath...

Or learn how to take your first.

See now, Adam said that,

"Everybody's got something to say about poetry".

Well breathe now, poet,

And you'll see that

Words have something to say about

You, too.